So tired.
So tired.
I’m dizzy with fatigue. My eyes focus and unfocus. I blink and hold, then release. Blink and hold.
Release.
Pain radiates across my body, my heart thundering in my chest. Hunger claws violently at my gut. The healing process always replenishes my vital needs, usually regenerating my body to a nearly normal state; but I can’t remember the last time I ate anything solid. More than that, I feel as if I haven’t slept in weeks. Wherever I was these last three days, it’s clear enough now that I wasn’t resting. The world spins, tilting under me.
My knees give out.
I crumple against him and he catches me, his reflexes sharp as he gathers me up into his arms with ease. I sense his astonishment in the aftermath; his fear; his chest moving too fast as my head lands softly against his heart. He’s carrying me like it’s effortless.
Like he’s done it before.
“Rosabelle,” he says breathlessly. “What just happened?”
So tired.
I blink and hold, release.
“Rosabelle,” he says again. “Are you okay?”
Anger exposes itself as pain. Silence exposes itself as fear. Distance exposes itself as armor.
Blink and hold. Release.
Blink and hold—
“Rosabelle?”
I fall, suddenly, asleep.
26
James
“What is this, by the way?” Winston prods the Tupperware I’d set on the kitchen counter. “Is this some kind of ocean sample? Why’d you bring it here?”
Nazeera looks from me to the Tupperware. Then back to me. “Oh my God, is this what I think it is? Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”
“What?” Winston sniffs the Tupperware, makes a face, then pushes it away. “What do you think it is?”
“James, what did you do?” Nazeera says to me. “What happened to the chicken?”
“All right,” says Winston. “I’m confused.”
“You didn’t even sauté the vegetables, did you?” Nazeera is saying. “You don’t make soup by dumping a bunch of ingredients in hot water—”
“Soup?” Winston straightens, fixing his eyes on me. “Since when do you cook anything but protein shakes?”
“This Tupperware is cold.” Nazeera frowns. “Why is it cold? Did you even use the stove?”
I roll my eyes at the pair of them, then silently mouth two words:Fuck off.
But my heart isn’t really in it. My heart is dying.
Rosabelle is asleep in my arms.
